


It's Harder Than You Think

by Iki_teru



Series: In the litany of your name [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, everyone is awful at communicating, leon and yuffie appreciation week, psuedo family, set during first game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iki_teru/pseuds/Iki_teru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heading back to the Coliseum for the Hades Cup and Squall is a liar and Yuffie is betrayed, by him, by herself, and nobody is really very good at communicating with one another, but everyone is very good at running away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Telling Dreams From One Another

**Author's Note:**

> While working on this piece I realized that these fics I've been uploading for this week are officially a Series. This one is set during the Hades Cup and is actually two parts, part two will be coming later today. Self edited, and as always, con-crit is welcome and appreciated <3

And felled in the night  
By the ones you think you love  
They will come for you  
And felled in the night  
By the ones you think you love  
They will come for you  
-Bastille, Daniel in the Den

 

Squall is a liar. 

It’s not even the lie itself that has Yuffie so mad, although she’d be a liar herself if she said it didn’t sting. And okay, so he didn’t technically lie, he never _said_ anything, but she thought the nod and the slight upturn of his mouth had meant...well, something. 

But here they were, standing under the baking sun of the Coliseum and he was pinning a number to his jacket and it wasn’t the same number as hers and some emotion she wouldn’t, shouldn’t, _couldn’t_ examine prickled across her shoulders and wedged in her throat. “I don’t understand,” she said, focusing her gaze on her hands as she clenched and unclenched her fingers until her hands tingled. “You’re fighting with Cloud?” 

“He contacted me and asked for a team up.” Maybe it’s her imagination but Squall seems to be shuttering closed to her, which comes as a bit of a shock because she hadn’t even realized he was open until this moment. 

She goes cross eyed with the force of questions she doesn’t know how to ask without starting a Thing, and they had been doing so well at not starting Things, she refused to be the one to break the tentative peace, refused to go back and see Aerith’s smile slip by degrees and cause Cid to sigh and avoid the house more than he does. _contacted you when, how long have you known, why didn’t you say anything, why couldn’t you tell me_.

“Why can’t I fight with you guys?” and the shock and hurt is starting to ebb away, the tide of anger roiling in its wake. “There’s no party limit. Does Cloud not trust me? You and I have fought together enough, you could vouch for me.” Her words are stilted, but she’s trying to be careful, trying to rein in her emotions before they get away from her, trying to show that she _can_ be careful, in case that’s what the concern is. “I thought…” but she bites her lip on that before she can finish it. _I thought we were partners_ which is dumb, they fight together out of necessity, the trip to the Coliseum had been the first time they drew weapons for the simple joy of fighting. 

She waits, tense and sweaty and that’s entirely because of the sun, not at all because of the bitter sensation she keeps swallowing again and again. Squall straightens and keeps straightening, goes practically ramrod straight and she wants to kick his knees out from under him because she _hates_ when he gets like this and he knows it. 

“It’s complicated,” he says levelly, “now’s not the time to discuss it.” 

Yuffie sucks air through her teeth and counts to ten and tries just one more thing. “Look, I know Cloud’s screwed up or something, I swear I won’t do anything horrible to send him running.” 

She can’t read the expression on Squall’s face but she knows she’s not going to like the next words out of his mouth. “Yes, you will.” 

The proverbial lid gets blown then, Yuffie can’t even remember all of what she says, everything comes tumbling out in gasps and between breaths and she feels the heat bloom on her cheeks and she’s shaking because she’s never been this angry, this insulted, this _hurt_ before and she storms off before Squall could say anything else. 

Not that he looked like he was going to try. He weathered Hurricane Yuffie without so much as flinching, his face a mask of perfect calm. 

She goes ahead with the tournament, even though it’s beyond ill-advised. Yuffie is a creature of shadow and subterfuge, hide and seek with her enemies and the Coliseum ring is nothing but flat, sun bleached stone. It’s no surprise really, that she gets knocked out early on. If this had been Traverse Town, if she had been home among her hidey-holes and star strewn sky she has no doubt that things would have gone differently. 

If she had someone at her back….but no, the bitterness still rolled around in her mouth and she didn’t need to think of that right now. 

 

When it was said and done and the cheers faded into the sky from the empty stands she managed to dredge a smile from the depths. “Hey Sora!” she practically chirped, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “What are the odds you’re swinging by Traverse Town and feel benevolent enough to take a lonely hitchhiker with you?”

Sora, high on victory and low on the ability to read situations that he’s not directly involved in, flashed a brilliant smile in response. “No problem!” 

Donald squawked his displeasure and Yuffie laughed it off, promising she’d let him keep his feathers after all. Goofy, of all of them, gets a look on his face and his eyes wander from Yuffie to the distant form of Squall and back and shit, she hadn’t banked on _him_ being the observant one. She distracts all three of them with a steady stream of meaningless words, commenting on the various groups that passed through, stroking egos a little by mentioning how cool Donald looked during situations, or how great of a save Goofy pulled off. “Then there’s you, Hero.” She pinches Sora’s cheek and he blushes. “You were amazeballs, but I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.” 

Out of her peripheral she sees Squall look around, brow creased in concern, and a coil of pleasure slides through her chest. Good, let him worry about where she went. 

Sora’s gummi-ship has sloppy letters penned on the side _Excalibur_ and it’s too adorable for words, which is a very rare thing for Yuffie, but the sight of it eases some of the tension in her shoulders and she manages to be polite enough to let everyone else clamor into place first. It’s a tight fit and they don’t even have an extra chair, which really suits her just fine. She curls up near the back, even manages to say thanks again like the polite girl Aerith wants to pretend she can be. “By the way, do you happen to have a trash can in this rig?” 

Honestly, she felt kind of bad for dragging poor Sora into this. He was clearly alarmed by the extent of her motion-sickness, turning around every time she retched. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

She almost said “drive faster” but pulled that back at the last minute, they weren’t exactly bosom buddies and Yuffie would feel pretty shitty if the expected hero of the known universe took her glibness the wrong way. Besides, who in their right mind would want to see Sora frown? That would be like kicking puppies for fun. “No worries about me,” she lied happily. “You’re already doing me a huge favor.” She saw the light flicker in his eyes and saw him open his mouth to ask the dreaded question _what happened_ and Yuffie put on a big show of dry heaving over Mr. Bucket’s cousin Bucketton. 

Yuffie didn’t _quite_ run away when they docked in Traverse Town. She dragged Sora over to Cid first and demanded Cid give the kid an upgrade. 

“On what?” 

She shrugged, at an honest loss. “Whatever needs upgraded, and throw in an air freshener would you?” Cid gives her a Look and she doesn’t like this, thinks she probably should have just sent Sora over to Cid on his own. 

“Where’s Leon?” Cid asks in a specific voice. It’s a voice that Yuffie grew up hearing, a voice that says _I know the answer to this but I want to know what you have to say for yourself_. 

“Couldn’t say, look at that, I think I’m late to killing things. Just, take care of Sora, huh? I’ll pay you back for whatever upgrade you offer him, scout’s honor.” 

“You’re not a scout.” 

“True, but it sounds loads better than thief’s honor.” 

She left them to hash out mechanical things that she would never be capable of caring about, unless one of the upgrades included a “never get motion sick ever again ever”, which, yeah was probably so far past wishful thinking the stars would laugh at her. 

It was a quick pit stop to the current safe house to load her pouch with clinking vials of potions. Yuffie was hoping to get in and out without having to deal with anything, but luck seemed to be enjoying screwing her over today. 

“Oh Yuffie, I didn’t know you were back already,” and Aerith smiles and it’s one of the brightest she’s managed in years and _shit_ here it comes. “Where’s Leon?”

The tiny and mean ball that rolled through her heart and scraped the edges and liked to remind her that she didn’t belong, not really, shuddered to life _would everyone be this worried about me if he had come back alone_. But she swallows the self doubt, swallows again to try and drown it in saliva and stares down at her shurikens, flicking her finger across the edge. “Don’t know,” she mumbled to her chest.

It was so hard with Aerith, with Cid he’d back off and say fuck it, do whatever you want damn kids, but Aerith took everything personal and Aerith felt like it was her fault that there was no peace in the house and it wasn’t, it _wasn’t_ it was stupid Squall and okay, stupid Yuffie but still, the sigh came and shot through Yuffie’s heart as sure as any blade. 

“I’m going on patrol,” Yuffie announced louder than strictly necessary, than would ever be necessary unless she was addressing a crowded lecture hall. She was out the door again before Aerith could call after her, and she did, Yuffie heard her name on the wind, fading as she ran across the familiar rooftops. She makes the mistake of looking over her shoulder, just once, and sees Aerith framed by the light spilling through the door and Yuffie runs harder. 

She stayed out too late, or too early, it’s hard to tell, what little sun reaches Traverse Town peeks over the edge of the wall for a scant hour or two before dipping back sleepily. She doesn’t bother trying to keep track of time, tells herself that she’s out to make up for lost time, tells herself she’ll go when she feels like she’s made a dent in the heartless infestation. 

But that’s the thing isn’t it, she knows you can never really cripple the onslaught, you can drive it back for a day or a couple of hours but as soon as you blinked there would be more winking into existence, chittering and hungry and full of darkness. She threw out her shuriken with a practiced flick of the wrist, the oversized blades scything through the gathered mass, and she flips a dagger into her hand to take care of the ones who presented an immediate bodily threat to her. Yuffie was starting to tire, her body aching and her palms sweaty on the hilt of the dagger. Still she pushed herself on, luring a group of Soldiers into a trap that exploded prettily. She was proud of herself, proud of the work she had done here and the square was clear, nothing else was materializing. 

There was nothing more to do for now. She limped home, exhausted and bruised and her left shoulder kept sending jolts of agony through her neck but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. No doubt she just pulled something, an injury that would be better treated with a hot shower and a day’s recoup. 

Squall was sitting on the couch, head down and hands clasped in his lap and when she squeaked the door open he looked up, some strong expression fluttering across his face. “Yuffie,” he said at exactly the same moment she said “no.” She turned away, back outside, not quite slamming the door behind her and took a deep breath, fumbled a potion out of her pouch to down with a shudder and she spared a moment to work the kink out of her shoulder, had just started running when the door opened behind her. She didn’t bother looking behind her.


	2. Voices Deep From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuffie stays away for days. Plural. She doesn't mean to, but something is twisting in her gut and won't let her go and slowly, achingly, the pieces begin to fall into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this was supposed to only be a two parter. But it refused. I'm sorry, so sorry that it's not being updated as rapidly as I wanted it to be, work kicked in and kicked my ass and I swear I will make it up to anyone reading these things. Once again, self edited, any con-crit is welcomed and appreciated <3

The night was all you had  
You ran into the night from all you had  
Found yourself a path upon the ground  
You ran into the night you can’t be found  
Bastille-Laura Palmer

 

Yuffie stays away for days. Plural. 

She didn’t mean to, she meant to run that first day and burn herself out and return with clear lungs. But whatever bitterness had been in her mouth has settled and congealed and turned to shame and frustation. 

She wasn’t even _mad_ or whatever, anymore, but there was a buzzing under her skin that kept her in motion, that made her vision tunnel when she even thought about going back. So Yuffie stayed away, trying to excise this rotten sliver of herself alone. 

Yuffie was not good alone though. It wasn’t just the fighting thing, she _rocked_ at the fighting, but she craved contact, longed for the casual friendly touches doled out thoughtlessly in the little psuedo family they had cobbled together, missed chattering in Aerith’s ear and having someone who didn’t just nod to keep her content, had someone who _listened_. 

She didn’t do too much talking these days. All her energy was spent on fighting heartless, and when there were none of those to be had it was diverted to fighting herself, wrestling with whatever was crawling under her skin and in her veins and through her lungs. 

The roof of the accessory shop became her new roost. It wasn’t ideal, and the moogles complained _a lot_ , but First District was the safest place to be outside and she had no desire to go back to the safe house (okay, that’s a lie, there was a desire, she desperately wanted a bath, was beginning to suspect she looked and smelled the way she was feeling inside: filthy with no clear line of how it had happened, had just occurred between blinks and breathes.) 

Luckily Squall is such a creature of habit that she needn’t worry about running into him on patrols. She times everything so they’re always running half a circle from each other. There are glimpses, the red stitched wings on his jacket are pretty iconic, but she’s getting better at waiting, at sliding back into the shadows until he’s passed completely. 

Those moments always filled her with shame, why was she hiding? They fought, they always fight, the only relationship they had was one of acerbic barbs tossed back and forth easy as breathing. 

The worst moments though, were when Aerith came calling. 

She’d sit on the stairs leading to the accessory shop and talk, just loudly enough for Yuffie to hear. She filled afternoons with mundane chatter, nonplus at the one sided conversation. It lasted hours some days, others as short as twenty minutes, but she always made a point of stopping by, and when she left there would be a basket full of hot and fresh foods. “Come home, Yuffie,” Aerith pleaded and she tried for a smile but her brows creased in worry. “We can get through this together.” 

Yuffie peeked over the eaves, saying nothing but holding eye contact, her admission that yes, she heard the words. _I want to, I can’t, I don’t want to, something’s wrong, I’m itchy in my skin, beneath my skin, in my heart and my lungs and I would cry if I could spare the effort, I would scream until the stars shattered if this feeling went away_. She blinked carefully, wondering what, if any of her thoughts were conveyed to Aerith. 

Yuffie was feeling more like a feral creature every day. She swung down long enough to gather the basket and darted away, eating on a different roof top so she wouldn’t be disturbed by any other visitors. 

Cid stopped by once. He did not bring food and by that point Yuffie was so tired she wasn’t even going on patrols anymore, just lulling across the peaks of the Accessory Shop, sleeping fitfully. If he didn’t at least have food then she couldn’t be bothered to even feign interest. 

“Hey, girlie.” He paused and was clearly waiting for some reply or acknowledgement. Yuffie draped her scarf over the edge in concession. “This has gone one long enough, come home.” The silence blossomed and Yuffie counted the stars overhead. Below her a sigh, and something that was definitely a match striking to life, and then the sweet smell of tobacco. 

She frowned. Cid quit. Cid promised he quit. had she driven him to smoke again? 

Was that even fair, for her to shoulder the blame for that? 

“Remember when all this started? You were so damn quiet we thought you were a mute. Fucking _years_ before you started talking and then we liked to never get you to shut up. Gotta say, girlie, you don’t do shit by halves do you?” He must have stretched or something, she heard the crack of a knuckle. “We know this ain’t about what went down between you and Leon, yer not that petty. Sure would like you home, although believe me, I get it.” He patted the building in lieu of patting her shoulder. “It’s gonna get worse, these things yer feeling, no way around that, but then it’ll get better and we can talk.” 

Then he too was gone and Yuffie had to start her star count all over. 

Squall never came. 

 

Yuffie didn’t know when the fever started, or when she slipped into a sleep that she couldn’t seem to claw her way out of. She remembered the press of the Accessory Shop roof against her back, remembered shifting to one side and taking a tumble and not having the strength to catch herself on the edge of the roof. The ground wasn’t so far though, and she crumpled bodily against it and that’s where she lay, drifting in and out of consciousness.   
She comes to, a little, when a cool hand presses against her brow. “Yuffie?” calls Aerith softly, and Yuffie manages to flutter her eyes open to confirm that yes, she is still alive. Aerith sits back with a sigh and a hand against her chest. “Oh thank gods.”

“Wha-” Yuffie tried, abandoning words after a syllable. Her mouth felt cottony and her tongue thick and foreign in her mouth. 

Cid circled around them, his spear at the ready. Yuffie was more confused than ever, Cid hadn’t brought the spear out in years, not since she and Squall had started patrolling. “We need to get going,” he growled. “Moogles said something’s closing in on the first district, let’s get girlie home before we all end up lunch.” 

It was awkward but after some arrangement Yuffie ended up piggy-backing on Aerith. She was encouraged to hold on but she simply didn’t have the strength for it and instead pressed her nose into Aerith’s neck. 

She fell asleep again with the smell of juniper and mint filling her mouth. Just before she slipped away completely, Yuffie felt one coherent thought bubble through the mire that was her conscious _I must reek_. 

 

Leon wasn’t so much waiting for them as he was working on running an impressive groove into the living room floor. When they stumbled through the door, Aerith breathless but glad she was able to help relieve her of the Yuffie shaped burden. Despite the fact that his arms were full of unconscious girl, he still found himself asking the obvious, “it finally happened?” 

Aerith hummed, the only reply he seemed to be getting as she slid through rooms, gathering things. There came the sound of the bath running and Leon stared helplessly down at the girl in his arms. They had known this would happen, had all three gone through it themselves, but as more time passed they became more and more hopeful that she would be spared. 

In his arms Yuffie fidgeted, her brow creasing and her breath hitched. The memories had her then, there was nothing they could do but try to wait it out and make her comfortable. 

“Leon, bring her in here will you?” Aerith, crouched by the side of the tub, testing the water with her wrist. “Poor thing needs a bath, it’s not much but it’ll make this slightly more bearable.” 

He lowered her into the water, clothes and all, and then hesitated. “Do you need help?” 

Aerith laughed, her whole being seemed lighter than it had in months, now that the proverbial other shoe had dropped. “No, I’ll take care of this part. Don’t go far though?”

After the bath he was called back to assist with transporting the still unresponsive girl to a bed. Aerith had her bundled in several towels, and even in this bleak moment Leon found a breath to be bemused by the irony of Yuffie being more covered now than under her own accord. 

“Now we wait,” he said once their charge had been tucked in. 

Aerith nodded, mouth a grim line. “and now we wait.” 

Watches were drawn, they had learned from past experiences it was better not to leave the person going through this alone. Aerith settled in for the first watch, brushing Yuffie’s hair back and staring helplessly at the younger girl’s face. 

 

 

Yuffie dreamed. Images, heavy and thick and almost so real that she could taste them (here the tang of gun powder in the air, here dust and loneliness, here dirt digging in her mouth, under her nails, scrapping her knee). She dreamed a world where magic was held in palm sized spheres of no loyalty. She dreamed a land where people depended on her, on _her_. She dreamed herself a thief in a forest, dreamed nonsense words _mako_ and _ShinRa_ and _Soldier_. In her dreams she saw Cloud, broken but in a different way than the one she knew. She saw Tifa and Cid and all the familiar beats of their hearts fluttered against hers she saw Aerith….

Grief gripped her and pulled her out of the dreamsmemoriesnightmares long enough to gasp awake for a fleeting moment. She was in a bed and someone with calloused fingers was changing a compress on her forehead and she peeled her eyes open long enough to see Leon hovering over her, the familiar crease buckling the scar between his eyes. She managed to surface long enough to slur “where are you” before being pulled back under. 

There were other faces, familiar strangers, and their names tripped across her tongue _MarleneandBarrettandNanakiandVincent_ and she cried out because she didn’t know these faces, they were nothing more than fever dreams, they must be nothing more than a fever dream. 

She dreamed of a father, her father, of her people and making them proud and a disease that tore her lands apart and the helpless feeling, always the helpless feeling and she dreamed of doing everything she could and still having to bury loved ones and then the dreams faded, slowly, her heart calming as she settled back into herself.


	3. You'll Come Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dawn after the storm. Memories are sifted through, stories are shared, apologies are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took many moons longer than it was intended to take. last chapter for this bit, not the last bit in this series though. You are welcome/I'm sorry as befitting. (also last of the bastille lyrics you are definitely welcome for that)  
> As always, this is self edited so please notify me of any glaring typos/errors, and con-crit is forever welcome and appreciated <3

Oh you go to sleep on your own   
And you wake each day with your thoughts  
And it scares you being alone  
It's a last resort

-Bastille, Sleepsong

 

 

If going down was a fall then coming to was a crawl, in slow increments and hummed replied because the effort of parting her lips was monumental. Someone slipped broth into her mouth and she swallowed gratefully and fluttered into actual, non haunted sleep. On and on the hours slide in this manner until something finally sparked inside and said enough.

Yuffie drags herself out of bed with more than a little effort. The room is perfectly vacant for the first time in gods know how long, and for that she sends a silent thank you. No witnesses as she stumbles across the floor, legs weak as a newborn kitten.

No, she realizes when she’s forced to cling to the wall to stay upright, kittens were assholes with way more motor control than she currently possessed. It’s a complicated shuffle just to make it down the hall, the wall is cool and familiar beneath her fingers and Yuffie uses that to help anchor her to the here and now. She stubs her toe once, bites her lip to keep from shouting out. The silence is too thick, like a spell has been laid over the house and Yuffie is terrified of what will happen when the silence breaks.

She finds Aerith exactly where she is supposed to be: asleep in her bed. Yuffie stands in the doorway and takes note of everything she can see in the gentle light of the moon: the way Aerith is curled on her side, her mouth parted in sleep, one arm tucked under her pillow and hair loose and tangling everywhere. She can hear, faintly, the gentle sounds of Aerith breathing.

Yuffie wraps her arms around her middle, the better to keep herself together, and allows herself a shaky breath as the tears come. She digs fingers into her ribs and makes herself weep silently, eyes screwed shut because the sight of Aerith lost in a tear blurred gaze is too much, threatens Yuffie’s careful control and so she cries blind and silent until the grief for a past that is not hers has washed away.

She leaves the house again, it feels too much like an enchantment to be the only one awake like this. Yuffie scribbles a note on a scrap of paper, letting anyone who may wonder know that she’s just out on a walk, she’ll be back soon.

The air of Traverse Town is crisp and cool in her mouth. The streets are silent, save for the soft hum of florescent signs hanging over shops that are never open. Yuffie enjoys the peace with a shuriken at her fingertips, her gaze flitting over anything and everything, recommitting her life to memory.

Overhead constellations that belong to no one wink down to her and she counts the stars in made up shapes, tracking the newest empty spaces where worlds have fallen while she dreamed. There is comfort to this, to this concrete familiarity that she can point to and say “look, I stood here the day we made those stars into the Singing Dog. Look, here is the alley we lost Squall down and he returned to us Leon. Here is where I fell and chipped my tooth, here is where we discovered those flowers that smell like warm bread. Look here, look here.”

Every step through town eased the tension in her heart, brings her one step closer to being herself again.

Not that Yuffie iss really sure anymore who herself was. There would always be the lingering taste of the other her, coloring every decision she made, every laugh pulled out of her, ever smile and she would wonder if she had smiled at this before, if she had loved like this before, if she was just walking in the echoes of her own past.

But Traverse Town is hers, only hers, not the other hers, that Yuffie was from another world and this Yuffie won’t allow her to take this from her. So she moves through streets and alleys, re-familiarizing herself with her present, trailing fingers across stone and twirling her shuriken in her other hand.

Her steps bring her to the bell tower, high above the rest of the city where she could look out at everything with an eagle's eye view. She paces along the edge, heart thumping in anticipation of the fall she knows she could avoid. She iss clumsy, no one would deny that, but she isn't stupid and her feet fell into an easy, familiar pattern. This iss where she liked to come to think. Leon preferred the catacombs beneath the city, drippy and damp and echo-y, probably a physical manifestation of his own heart now that she thought about it, but Yuffie preferred the high places, the open sky and nothing at her back save the wind.

There comes a sound, the drag of metal against stone, and she chunks the shuriken without giving it a thought, no heartless would catch her today, not after everything she's gone through. But it wasn't a heartless, there isa pause and then Leon stepped out of the shadows.

"Figured you'd be up here," he says. She couldn't help but smile at that.

"You're welcome for my predictability." He snorts, taking a seat at the edge of the building, drawing one leg up and resting his arm across the knee.

"How you holding up?" he asks, surveying the district laid out below them.

Yuffie considered as she walksthe edge of the roof. "Not really sure, if you want the truth. I know I'm still me but I have her inside and I can't tell where one of us ends and the other begins." She flexed her fingers, staring down at the minute scars caused by years of handling pointy projectiles. "Am I all that's left of her? Or am I everything she couldn't become?"

Leon says nothing.

"I mean, we have the same name, and when I look in the mirror I recognize my face as mine and as mine, you know? That's weird. And when I close my eyes I have all these...everyone was there, in that other place." Yuffie rises up on one foot, balancing on her toes alone and stretches the other leg out behind her, arms spread, ready to take flight. She knows all she has to do is lean back a little, and her heel would come down on the flat surface and she would be that slight step farther away from the edge. She leans forward instead. "Is anything I do my own anymore?"

Leon wrapped a hand gently around her ankle. He didn't apply any pressure, not really, just a comfortable weight that holds her in place, keeping her from tumbling forward or resting backwards. "What's done is done," he says, voice pitched low and aimed at his knee. "Whoever you were, whoever she was then, it's not who you have to be now."

Yuffie quirks her head to the side, studying him. "You knew this would happen didn't you?" He lets go of her ankle and she shivers at the cool touch of the air. She sat down gracelessly, knocking her knee against his to let him know there were no hard feelings.

"We had our suspicions, the rest of us went through this at one point or another...we had hoped, maybe, that you would be spared."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He makes a sound, something passably like a laugh or the growl of a bemused predator. "Would you have believed us?"

Yuffie hums and leans against his shoulder. Leon is a steady weight and he only protests slightly at the sudden contact. "This is why you were so weird about Cloud at the Coliseum isn't it?"

"It is, and I wanted to say I'm sorry about that. I should have handled it better."

Yuffie laughs now, voice high and clear and echoing to the heavens. "Oh my gods, Leon is actually apologizing for something? We must be in trouble.”

Silence falls again, this time weightless and companionable. Yuffie knocks a rhythm against the side of the building as they both say nothing and regard the stars.

“Leon,” she says and he hums against her in acknowledgement. “Why can’t I find you in the memories?”

She feels the subtle shift of his body, the slight downturn of his shoulder as it presses into hers. “I wasn’t there.”

This stills her, a feat rarely accomplished. “Do you mean, I never knew you or you were never there, like, not on the whole face of the world?”

He sighs and the depth of pain in that single breath is almost enough to undo her. “I was in a different time, Yuffie, a different planet.”

She counts the stars again and again, letting this sink in. Somehow, out of everything else, this seems the strangest thing ever. That the people she has come to think of as family, as home, should ever exist apart from one another. “What was it like?” she asks when the words finally find her again, and then, “you don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. Sorry if I’m being nosey, I just…” she shifts, trying to think of the words to convey exactly what she means and finding herself at a loss.

Beside her Leon inhales, deeply. “I grew up in an orphanage. When I was old enough I went to an academy, to train as a mercenary.” Yuffie sits on her hands to help still her fidgeting and makes a noise of encouragement.

Leon is not a natural storyteller. He leaves out tons of details so she only has the bare bones of story and she impresses both of them with her restraint, limiting questions to the places where he falls silent, trying to think of what to tell next. They sit out on the roof for hours, long enough for both of them to go raspy with the effort of so many words, long enough for the stars to shift overhead and whole new constellations to slide into place. When it’s all said and done, when he’s tripped over the final memories that he can recall, Yuffie stands.

“Do you feel lonely?” she asks, stretching until several bits pop.

He looks at her, actually looks at her, for the first time since he joined her on the roof and his expression is unreadable. “No, I don’t.”

Yuffie grins at that, taking it for the compliment it is, and holds a hand out to him. “It’s been a long night,” she says, “I think it’s time we go home, Leon.”

 

 


End file.
